


"The Angel Stream VI: Dog Days"

by Gaedhal



Series: "The Angel Stream" [6]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaedhal/pseuds/Gaedhal
Summary: It's summer and Brian and Justin's experiment in being in a relationship continues.





	1. Chapter 1

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“I’ve been wanting to come here,” said Lloyd Sutton, the CEO of Sutton Diet and Fitness Centers, as he and his companion approached the entrance to the Watermark, a restaurant on the Riverside Boardwalk. “They say the food is pretty good. And I heard the waitresses are the cutest in town.”

“Yes,” Brian Kinney nodded. “The waitresses. Well, this isn’t exactly Hooters, but it’s a decent place to have an expense account lunch.”

The hostess recognized Brian and smiled at him. He’d been bringing a lot of Vangard clients to the Watermark this summer. “I have your usual table on the Patio ready for you, Mr. Kinney.”

“Thank you, Rita,” said Brian.

“Are you sure you want to sit outside?” griped Sutton. “It’s pretty hot out.”

“All our Patio tables have umbrellas, sir,” said Rita, raising a carefully tweezed eyebrow. “And there’s a cool breeze blowing off the river.”

“Hear that, Sutton?” said Brian. “A cool breeze from the river. What could be better?”

“I guess so,” Sutton grumbled. 

Lloyd Sutton was an overweight and sweaty little man and not a very good advertisement for his own fitness centers. He took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He didn’t know how Kinney managed to look so cool and put together in this damn heat. But the man’s expensive suit was still crisp and his hair perfectly groomed, while Sutton’s own clothes were drenched in sweat and his sparse hair hung down in limp strands.

The hostess seated the men at a round table that overlooked the water. Boats cruised lazily up and down the river, in no hurry to get anywhere on a hot and sunny day. Surrounding tables were full of young professionals in casual clothes, mainly couples and small groups of stylish men. Brian and Mr. Sutton were the only ones sitting on the Patio who were wearing suits.

Sutton glanced around as a buxom redhaired waitress scurried by. The uniform for servers on the Patio was a pair of red shorts and a white polo shirt with the Watermark logo of a sailing ship, also in red, on the breast pocket. Sutton licked his lips as he leered at the redhead’s passing form.

“Maybe this is okay after all,” said Sutton, opening his menu. “You got an eye for the scenery? I see a couple of good-looking babes working here.”

“Perhaps,” said Brian, coolly. He didn’t look at the menu. He didn’t need to. He already knew what he was going to order.

“I hope that redhead has our table,” Sutton commented. “Did you see the tits on her?”

“I didn’t really notice,” said Brian. He craned his neck, looking for someone. Then he smiled as he saw a familiar figure approach their table.

“Hello,” the server said cheerily. “My name is Justin and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I bring you a drink before you order lunch?”

“Ah, Waiter Justin,” smirked Brian. “I think you can. What will you have, Sutton?”

Lloyd Sutton turned up his nose. The redhead was nowhere to be seen. Instead they had this little fag waiting on them. “I’ll have a martini. On the rocks. With two olives. Don’t forget – TWO olives!”

“Very good, sir,” said Justin, writing the order on his pad. “I’ll make sure there are two olives. And you, Mr. Kinney?”

“I’ll have my usual,” said Brian. Then he glanced at his piggish dining companion. “And make it a double.”

Justin grinned at Brian. He knew how much Brian dreaded long business lunches with Vangard clients. But bringing them to the Watermark, where Justin had been working for over a month, made the ordeal much more bearable for his lover. 

“A double Absolut, neat,” he said. “I’ll be right back with your drinks, gentlemen.”

Brian watched Justin amble away, his delectable butt stretching the limits of his tight red shorts. If only he could get away from the table and this idiot client for ten minutes. There was a storage room behind the kitchen that was perfect for a quickie with Waiter Justin. Brian sighed. But it looked like they’d have to wait until this evening, when they were both home from work.

“This place seems awful popular with the fags.”

Brian blinked, startled out of his reverie. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Sutton repeated. “This place seems popular with the fags.” He gestured to the next table, where four young men were drinking Cosmos and eating quesadillas. “And all the waiters look like fags, too. Like the little flamer we got waiting on our table.” Sutton sniffed dismissively. “They’re everywhere these days. Fags.”

“Is that so?” said Brian, his voice dangerously soft. 

“Yeah. I thought Jim Stockwell was going to drive that kind of person out of this town,” Sutton continued. “That’s what we elected him for. But I guess you can’t get rid of them all!”

“I guess not,” said Brian, his tone like ice. He wanted to knock Sutton’s block off, but he couldn’t. The moron owned a chain of fitness and diet centers that were spread out all over Western Pennsylvania and Eastern Ohio. The chain was going down the tubes fast and Gardner Vance had promised Lloyd Sutton that his partner, Brian Kinney, could turn the slump around with the right ad campaign.

“Make certain you get this account, Brian,” Gardner had ordered. “It’ll be quite a feather in our cap if we can do what Avon and Singleton Associates were unable to.” Avon and Singleton were an up-and-coming agency that had been challenging Vangard and competing for many of the same clients. They had won the Sutton account, but been unable to turn the business around, so Gardner was determined to succeed where his rivals had failed.

“I’m hungry,” Sutton grumped. “Where the hell is that little faggot? I want to order my lunch.”

“The waiter is coming now,” said Brian as Justin headed to their table with his tray.

“Here are your drinks, gentleman,” Justin grinned. “A martini with TWO olives for you, sir. And a double Absolut, neat.” Justin winked at Brian as he set the drink down in front of him. “Do you want to order your food now?

“It’s about time,” Sutton sniffed. “I want a Porterhouse steak, well-done.”

“Well-done?” Justin questioned. The meat would be like a piece of leather by the time he brought it out. “Are you sure, sir?”

“You heard me,” huffed Sutton. “Well-done. And a baked potato. With plenty of sour cream.”

“What dressing for your salad?” Justin asked, sneaking a look at Brian, whose face was an impassive mask.

“No salad,” said Sutton. “I hate salad. And make sure that potato is a big one, okay?”

“Of course, sir.” Justin felt sorry for Brian. Lunch was obviously a torture for him. “And you, Mr. Kinney?”

“I’ll have the Thai salad, with the dressing on the side,” said Brian, looking pointedly at Sutton. “Thank you, Waiter Justin.” 

Justin collected the menus from the men. “Thank YOU, sir. I’ll tell them to put a rush on the order. You look like you’re in a hurry.”

Amen, thought Brian. I can’t get away from this asshole fast enough.

Justin left the table, stopping by the table with the four gay men to ask if they wanted another round of drinks.

“I hope that little pansy gets the order right. Last time I ordered a steak in a place like this it was still red inside,” Sutton confided to Brian. “I had to send it back twice!”

“Is that so?” Brian replied, his patience at an end. “Oh, Justin?” he called, gesturing him back to the table.

Justin hurried back, frowning. Had he forgotten something? “Is there anything more you want, Mr. Kinney?”

“Yes,” said Brian. “This!” He grabbed Justin’s arm and pulled him down to him, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Don’t eat anything else today. I’m going to take you to dinner tonight at Giovanni’s, so I want you to be good and hungry. And wear those black jeans that I like. The ones that show off your fabulous ass.” 

“Brian!” Justin pulled out of his arms, blushing. “Stop! I’ll get into trouble!”

“Fuck it!” he said. Then Brian glanced over at Lloyd Sutton’s shocked face. “Justin is my lover. Just in case you didn’t realize that faggots really are everywhere. Even running your crummy business’ advertising campaign. And saving your fat ass while I’m at it! So don’t forget that when you’re mouthing off, Sutton!”

Lloyd Sutton stood up, sputtering. “Wait until I talk to Gardner Vance about this!” And then he stalked off. 

The four men at the nearby table, who had been watching the drama with great interest, hooted and clapped. “You go, girl!” one of them cried in delight.

“Brian, what did you just do?” Justin sighed.

“Nothing,” Brian stated. “And everything. Now cancel the rubber steak for that creep and bring me my Thai salad. But not too much. We’re going out to dinner tonight, remember?”

Justin shook his head. “You’re really something! You know that, Brian?”

Brian smirked. “I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiter Justin.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“Justin, do you think you can work the dinner shift tonight?” asked Clarence Ramsey, the manager of the Watermark. “Chad just called and said he’s not going to be able to make it, so I’m one waiter short.”

Justin bit his lip and frowned. “I’m supposed to go out to dinner with Brian tonight. He’s taking me to Giovanni’s.”

Clarence narrowed his eyes at Justin. “You keep telling me that you’d like to work dinners and get the bigger tips that come with that shift, but when I offer it to you, you blow me off. Make up your mind, Justin. What’s more important? Going out with your boyfriend or making more money? Let me know soon or I’ll ask someone else. I don’t want to get caught short-handed this evening.”

Justin was torn. He wanted to go to Giovanni’s with Brian, but he also wanted that money. Lunch was okay, but the dinner shift was the most coveted. That’s when prices were higher, the diners spent more – and they left much bigger tips. Justin had only been working at the Watermark since July, so they’d started him on lunches, leaving dinner to the more experienced servers.

Working a few weeks at the Liberty Diner hadn’t exactly prepared him for the demands of the trendy Watermark, but Justin was learning fast. He was a hard worker, he was personable, and he was extremely cute. That made him popular with diners, as well as with his fellow servers. 

And the manager, Clarence, had his eye on Justin, too. That was sometimes a problem. Clarence liked to brush against Justin in the close quarters of the bus station or the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen. Clarence often told Justin how nice he looked in the Watermark uniform of shorts and polo shirt, and the way he said it made Justin more than a little uncomfortable. He hadn’t made a pass at him – at least not a blatant one. And maybe he wouldn’t. Clarence had seen Brian and understood that Justin’s tall boyfriend could easily beat the shit out of him – if Brian were inclined to jealousy. 

Of course, Justin knew that Brian didn’t do jealous, but Clarence didn’t know it, so he satisfied himself with a quick grope now and then. Justin figured that he could put up with that. After all, some of the Watermark customers were even more aggressively lecherous. And it wasn’t only the older guys. Some of the younger men seemed to think that because Justin was there to ‘serve’ them, he was available in other ways, too. He’d been offered money to do everything from going on a date to showing an entire table his dick right there on the Patio. Justin always declined, but politely. He was always polite. It would never do to insult a customer and get his ass fired. Then he’d never make enough money to contribute his share of his and Brian’s household expenses.

Every week Justin put most of his wages and tips into the ceramic pink flamingo cookie jar that Brian had bought for him at the Antique Market during their Spring Break vacation. It wasn’t much money, not when compared to what their actual expenses were, but at least Justin felt he was giving something back. One day, he vowed, he’d pull his own weight. He’d be a full partner in their relationship. He’d show Brian that he could be a success, too.

Justin kept thinking about the look on his mother’s face when he told her that Brian had bought him the Jeep. He knew what she was thinking. That Justin was a kept boy that Brian was only interested in for sex. And she wasn’t the only one who thought so. He knew that Michael secretly felt that way. And Emmett openly made jokes about it, saying there was nothing better for a pretty gay boy than having a rich sugar daddy!

But Justin didn’t want a sugar daddy. He wanted a partner. He wanted to be Brian’s true equal. But he was also aware that it might be years before that was possible – at least financially.

“Yes,” said Justin. “I’ll take that dinner shift. And if I do a good job, would you consider putting me on dinner permanently?”

Clarence squinted at the kid. He really was cute. And Clarence liked blonds. “I’ll think about it. Let’s see how you do tonight. You’ll need a pair of black dress pants to work inside. Ask Dwight. He’s about your size. He might have a pair in his locker. Otherwise you’ll need to go home and get a pair. You do have a pair of decent black pants, don’t you, kid? No jeans.”

“Oh, yes,” Justin nodded. “I have some.”

“Good,” said Clarence. “You start at 5:30. Don’t be late. And don't fuck up tonight.”

“I won’t,” Justin assured his boss. “I’ll do a good job, Mr. Ramsey. You’ll see.”

It was the end of the lunch shift, so Justin went into the tiny breakroom and changed his clothes. Then he walked out along the Boardwalk and took out his cellphone.

“Brian?” said Justin as he heard his lover answer.

“I’m on my way into a meeting with Vance,” Brian said. “So I can’t chitchat.”

“This isn’t chitchat,” Justin replied. “I have to work this evening, so I can’t go to Giovanni’s with you. But we can go another night, okay?”

Justin heard a long pause on the other end. “Yeah. Maybe. Whatever.” Brian’s voice sounded strained. Weary. Resigned. “It’s work. I understand.”

“Did your client call Mr. Vance and tell him about what happened at lunch?” Justin asked tentatively. “Is he mad?”

“Let’s just say that Gardner isn’t exactly thrilled with me,” Brian sniffed. “I’ve got to move my ass right now. I’ll see you tonight when you get home. Whenever that is.”

“Late, probably,” Justin sighed. “I’ll have to help clean up. Sorry, Brian. I love you.”

“Right,” Brian said shortly. “Later.”

Justin closed his cellphone slowly. He hoped that Brian wasn’t in too much trouble. But how bad could it be? Brian was a partner in Vangard. What could Vance do to him? He couldn’t fire a partner. Or could he?

Justin headed for the lot where the Jeep was parked. He had less than two hours to get home, shower, find a pair of black dress pants, and be back at the restaurant in time for the dinner shift. And he was already tired. By midnight he’d be a wreck.

But, hopefully, when he got home tonight he’d have a pocketful of tips. He practiced his ‘Sunshine’ smile. That never failed. He’d pull his weight. He’d show everyone that he was no fucking boytoy. No way! He was the best queer he could possibly be.

And he’d make Brian proud. In every way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk at Vangard.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“Brian, I need to speak to you seriously,” said Gardner Vance from behind his sprawling desk. “Please have a seat.”

Brian strolled into Vance’s office and sat in the chair on the other side of that intimidating desk. It was like a fucking visit to the principal’s office. Just what he needed to end a lousy fucking day.

Brian was annoyed with himself. Not because of what he’d said to Lloyd Sutton. No, he wasn’t the least bit sorry about that. 

He was annoyed because he felt so disappointed that Justin had canceled their dinner at Giovanni’s in order to work an extra shift at the Watermark.

That was no reason to be upset, Brian told himself. It was only dinner. It wasn’t anything important. A spur of the moment invitation.

So why did he feel such a letdown that it wasn’t going to happen? It didn’t make any fucking sense!

“Brian!” Gardner Vance said sharply. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh,” Brian replied. “Sure. The Sutton account. I have it all laid out. Murph has already made some preliminary sketches for the campaign. If Sutton wasn’t such a damned hot-head he could be here at office, looking at them right now.”

Vance took out a handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his bald head. What was he going to do with Brian? He was the best advertising man Vance had ever met – outside of himself, of course. But Brian was nothing but trouble. A loose cannon. Liable to fly off the handle, especially if someone challenged him or made some anti-gay remark. He had provoked more than one client that way. So far they hadn’t lost any business because of it, but Gardner had spent more time than he cared to think about smoothing the ruffled feathers of clients who were used to being coddled and catered to – and not lectured about their beliefs by an angry homosexual with a large chip on his shoulder.

“Do you realize how irate Mr. Sutton is?” said Vance, trying to keep his own temper in check. “Do you realize that you embarrassed him in a public place?”

“If you mean that little incident at the Watermark this afternoon, then I guess you could say it was embarrassing,” Brian shrugged. “But the man is a horse’s ass, Gardner! He’s a pig. He was ogling the waitresses like a horny frat boy. And making homophobic comments, too! Then he made a remark about Justin. Am I supposed to sit there and listen to that without saying anything? Fuck that! I don’t care if he is a client!”

“It’s not your place to drag your personal life into this office, as well you know!” Vance shouted. “The personal views of our clients have nothing to do with their accounts! It’s not your job to make them see things your way. Your job is to woo them, gain their business, and then create a campaign that will sell their products. You know that more than anyone else, Brian.”

“But Lloyd Sutton is a homophobic....” Brian began.

But Vance cut him off. “I don’t give a damn what the man is! That is not your concern. And what do you think you’re doing taking clients to the Watermark so often? Just so you can make goo-goo eyes at your boyfriend when you’re supposed to be winning over the client? Is that a good business practice?”

Brian felt his face turning red. “I’ve never made goo-goo eyes at any guy in my entire fucking life! I go to the Watermark because they know me there, it’s fast, and it’s a good value for the price. I’m only thinking of Vangard.”

Vance glared at Brian. That Brian’s young boyfriend was a waiter at the Watermark had been common knowledge in the office for the past month – at about the same time Brian began taking clients there and charging their meals on his expense account. “If you were really thinking of Vangard you wouldn’t insult potential clients like Lloyd Sutton. And you wouldn’t be so reckless with your personal life that you get picked up by the police and have to have Mayor Stockwell himself come to bail you out!”

“That was last winter!” Brian retorted. “I can’t believe you’re bringing that up now! I’m not planning on get arrested again, Gardner. I don’t need to go out looking for prime dick in the alleys of Liberty Avenue because I’m....” Brian paused. Because why? Because he was in a relationship? Brian winced at the word, even if it was the truth. “I don’t need to do that shit anymore.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” said Vance. “But that doesn’t erase your past conduct. And it doesn’t explain why you feel the need to jeopardize this business because of your personal vendetta against Mayor Stockwell and his ‘Family Friendly Pittsburgh’ policy. Many people agree with him – including many of our clients.”

“Then they’re homophobic creeps just like Jim Stockwell!” Brian exclaimed. “And I don’t have to pretend I agree with them. Or listen to them spout off about people I... I care about.” Brian rubbed his forehead. He had a bitch of a headache and it was getting worse by the minute.

“I want you to apologize to Lloyd Sutton,” said Vance, standing and staring directly at Brian. “That is not a suggestion, it’s an order.”

Brian stood up slow and put his hands on the big desk, staring back at Vance in defiance. “I won’t apologize to that jerk! I’ll map out Sutton’s campaign and it’ll be brilliant – as usual. But I won’t apologize to him. No apologies! And no fucking excuses! He can take it – or leave it.”

Gardner Vance shook his head. “Then I’m afraid that I must place you on suspension, Brian. I want you to collect your personal effects and go home. In a month you may come back in and we’ll review your accounts – and see whether or not you have a future here at Vangard.”

Brian’s mouth was hanging open in shock. “You can’t suspend me! I’m a partner in this firm, Gardner! I’m not some flunky you can kick out on a whim!”

“This is no whim, Brian,” Vance stated. “And although you are a partner at Vangard, this is still MY agency. I have the controlling interest here and the final decisions are mine to make – and I’m making this one. Wilson and Millard will take over your accounts in your absence.”

“Ken Wilson and Phil Millard? Take over MY accounts?” Brian choked. “They can’t handle their own accounts, let alone mine!”

“Then you will have all the more reason to want to return when your suspension is over and make certain that Wilson and Millard haven’t done too much damage to your clients,” Vance informed Brian. “Go home and think about what you really want. Do you wish to make political statements? Or do you wish to continue working in the advertising business? Make up your mind, Brian, and then let me know in a month.”

Vance sat back down and swiveled his chair away from Brian, dismissing him.

“You can’t do this, Gardner!” Brian breathed. “I’m your fucking partner!”

“I’ll see you in a month,” said Vance, not looking at him. “A security guard is waiting outside to escort you to your desk and then to your car. Goodbye, Brian.”

Brian turned and walked to the door. The stony-faced security man was standing right outside, just as Gardner had promised.

I’m fucked, thought Brian, his heart sinking. Without lube.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer at the Liberty Diner.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

Jennifer Taylor approached the diner on Liberty Avenue with trepidation. 

This was enemy territory. Or that’s what it felt like. A world about which she knew nothing. A world in which she was stranger. The epicenter of Gay Pittsburgh.

But this was the world where her son now belonged. Where her son now worked. The Liberty Diner.

She took a deep breath before she opened the door and stepped inside.

The diner was about half-full in the hour before the dinner rush began. As Jennifer glanced around, it looked like a normal diner – the garish colors, the faux-Fifties ambience, music blaring from a jukebox. But something about the place was slightly off.

She noticed two men kissing in a front booth. And a hefty woman with a shaved head and multiple piercings sitting at the counter.

And the waitress...

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” asked the waitress, a very tall woman with red hair and heavy, clown-like make-up.

“Are... are you Debbie?” Jennifer asked. All she knew was that the woman she was looking for was a waitress at the Liberty Diner and had red hair.

“No, sweetie,” the waitress laughed. “I’m Kiki. Deb’s on break. Hang on a sec.” The waitress turned and yelled in a loud, gruff voice, “Hey, Deb! You got a visitor!”

“Thank you,” said Jennifer politely. But as she stared more closely at Kiki she realized that this person wasn’t a woman at all, but a middle-aged man in a wig and a waitress uniform. A drag queen! And this was where Justin worked! With these people!

“Keep you pants on!” a voiced shouted from the back. Then a woman – a real woman this time, Jennifer noted – burst out of the kitchen. “I’m coming! What’s so important it can’t wait for five more minutes until I’m off my break?”

“This lady is looking for you,” said Kiki, indicating Jennifer.

“Well, you’re seeing me!” Debbie laughed. “I’m Debbie Horvath, but you can call me Debbie, like everybody else! What can I do for you, honey?”

“I’m Jennifer Taylor,” she replied. “And I’m told by my son that you can tell me something about an organization called P-FLAG.”

“Jennifer Taylor?” Debbie repeated. “Are you Sunshine’s mom?”

Jennifer blinked. “Sunshine? If you mean Justin, then yes, I’m his mother. I thought he might be here today. I know he works at this diner.”

Debbie guffawed. “He hasn’t worked here in over a month, hon. When was the last time you talked to him?”

Jennifer swallowed. “Last week. He never told me he’d quit his job.” He never tells me anything anymore, Jennifer thought, fighting back tears.

“He got a better gig at the Watermark down on the Boardwalk,” Debbie explained. “Much better tips there. He only worked here for a couple of weeks. Justin is a cutie and has a great ass. All the guys loved him!”

“Oh, dear,” sighed Jennifer, feeling shaky. “Do you mind if I sit down?” She sank into the nearest booth and put her head in her hands.

Debbie frowned at the blonde woman. She had on an expensive outfit and she seemed like a nice lady, but something was definitely wrong with her. Deb sat herself down on the seat opposite Justin’s mother and leaned over the table. “Are you gonna tell me what’s the trouble?”

“Everything,” Jennifer whimpered. “I feel like I’m losing my son! He never told me that he changed jobs. He... he never tells me what he’s doing now. He used to confide in me about everything in his life. His friends, his classes – everything! That is, he did before he met that... that Brian!”

“You mean before he told you he was gay?” Deb said gently. “When did he tell you, honey?”

“Last Christmas Eve,” she sniffed. Debbie reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a handful of kleenex, handing them to Jennifer. “Thanks.”

“But you already knew,” said Deb. “You’ve known a long time, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” Jennifer admitted. “But it was only a... a feeling. But when Justin said it out loud, that made it real. That made it true. And that’s when everything changed. That’s when that Brian came into the picture!”

“Listen, hon,” Debbie reached over and patted Jennifer’s hand. “I’ve known Brian Kinney since he was a tall, gangly kid who Mikey brought home for dinner one night. They were only about 13 or 14 years old, but Brian already had a chip on his shoulder the size of a fucking tree! His old man was an abusive drunk and his mother spent more time on her knees in church than looking out for her kids. Brian was pretty much left to fend for himself, to make his own way. I took one look at him and knew he was trouble. And I was right, because not long after that I came home and found the two of them in my house in the middle of day, drunk!”

“Is this supposed to reassure me?” Jennifer choked out. “Because it isn’t working!”

Debbie shook her head. “I’m only telling you this to show you what Brian’s had to survive. He could have been a total loss, like his old man. And it looked like that’s the way he was headed. He ran away from home and got mixed up with some bad people. But eventually he pulled himself together. He was a smart kid and he got a scholarship to Penn State, so he went off to college and made something of himself. Brian’s got a good job and he makes great money. He’s a successful man.”

“I know,” said Jennifer. “He bought Justin a Jeep for his graduation. But that makes me think that... that he’s buying my son! I hate to think that, but I can’t help it!”

Debbie threw her head back and laughed. “Jennifer, honey, the last thing Brian Kinney needs to do is buy sex! All he has to do is walk down the street and he could find ten guys who’d have sex with him in a heartbeat! He bought Sunshine that Jeep so he’d be able to get around. And so he’d be safe. Pittsburgh is not an easy place for any gay man, but especially a young gay boy who can’t defend himself. Brian knows that.”

“I wish I could believe that this man has my son’s best interests at heart,” said Jennifer. “But it’s hard! He’s so much older than Justin. So much more experienced. I’m afraid Justin will get hurt by him.” Jennifer leveled her eyes at Debbie. “He’s going to hurt my son, isn’t he? Tell me the truth.”

Debbie sat back in the booth. She couldn’t very well tell this woman that her son wouldn’t get hurt. That he’d never get his heart broken. Or that Brian wouldn’t be the one who broke it. That was the way of the world. That was life.

“Listen, Jennifer – I don’t have my crystal ball with me today,” she said. “I can’t predict the future. But everybody gets hurt. Everybody gets their heart broken eventually. But I’ve seen Brian and Justin together. They’ve been to my house. I’ve seen them here at the diner and at Woody’s, the bar down the street. And I can tell you one thing – Sunshine is in love with Brian. Head over heels in love. But Brian is in love with Justin, too. I can tell. You can see it in his face when he looks at the kid. Hear it in his voice. I’ve never seen him like that before. Never. Never seen him so gentle with anyone, except maybe his son, Gus.”

“Son?” said Jennifer, in surprise. “Brian has a son?”

“Yup. Gus’ll be five in a couple of weeks,” Debbie informed her. “And Brian loves him like crazy, although he’d never admit it. The same with Justin. He loves him, even if he won’t say it. But he does. I know.”

“This is so hard for me,” Jennifer whispered. “But I’m trying to understand. I’m trying to accept it. Especially since I know I can’t change it.”

“Then why don’t you come with me to the next meeting of P-FLAG?” Deb suggested. “You’ll meet a lot of people in the same boat as you. All parents of gay kids. And we all have one thing in common – we love our kids. But we love them the way they are, not the way we want ’em to be. Unconditionally.”

“That’s the way I want to love Justin,” Jennifer nodded. “But why is it so hard to accept?”

“You’ll find a way,” said Deb. She took Jennifer’s hand and squeezed it. “Just open up your heart. Justin is already in there. But maybe one day you’ll find a little room for Brian, too. Because he needs love even more than Justin. But I think they’re finding it – together.”

Jennifer tried to smile, but to was difficult. So very difficult. Difficult to accept Justin’s new life. And Brian. But she’d try.

She had no other choice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian makes a mistake.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“I can’t believe they fired you!” Michael moaned. “How can they do that?”

“Gardner didn’t fire me,” Brian corrected him. He raised his eyebrow at the bartender, who immediately brought over two more Rolling Rocks. “I’m on suspension. For a month. Think of it as an unpaid vacation.”

Woody’s wasn’t very crowded on that Tuesday night. Two guys were playing pool and a few men were at the scattered tables. But only Brian and Michael sat at the bar. Things had changed on Liberty Avenue in the past year. Gay men were more hesitant to go out these days. Mayor Stockwell’s black-clad Anti-Sex Squad constantly patrolled the streets, waiting to pounce on anyone who stepped out of line. Many of the local bars, like Pistol and Boytoy, had closed, and even on the weekends Babylon was often only half full.

“What are you going to do for money?” Michael asked, his brow wrinkled with concern.

“I’ll be fine,” said Brian, dismissively. “It’s not like when that fucking Kip claimed that I sexually harassed him. I’ve been covering my ass since then, at least financially. I can manage for a month – and longer if I need to. But I’m sure that by then Gardner will have realized that he can’t run Vangard without me. He might even be so anxious to get me back that he’ll give me a huge fucking raise!”

“I hope you’re right,” said Michael. Brian talked with a lot of bravado, Michael thought, but he could tell that Brian was worried. He watched as his friend nervously peeled the label off the green bottle of beer and then shredded the paper into bits.

When Brian called and asked him to meet him at Woody’s, Michael knew something was wrong. The truth was that they didn’t hang out together very much anymore. Michael was busy with his store and his life with Ben and Hunter, while Brian was wrapped up in his twinkie boyfriend. Michael tried to remember when the old gang, including Emmett and Ted, had all been together, and he realized that it had been months.

But Michael had dropped what he was doing – in that case looking over toy catalogs – and come running. When Brian was in trouble Michael always came running. That’s what it meant to be Brian’s best friend.

“What about all your payments?” Michael asked. “Your credit cards? And the loft – and the cars?” Michael feared that Brian’s lavish lifestyle would be his downfall.

“The loft is paid for – free and clear,” Brian reassured him. “Same with the Vette. I bought it with the cash I made from the Carnivale. I’ll just put my cards away and cut back on new purchases. Believe me, it won’t be a problem.”

Michael reached for another handful of peanuts and chewed them slowly. He’d left before he finished dinner and he was still hungry. With the way Hunter gobbled down everything in sight, there probably wouldn’t be any leftovers by the time he got home.

“Well, what about that Jeep?” Michael said, his mouth full of peanuts. “That’s not paid for yet. That kid is riding in it all over town – and charging the gas to you!”

“Forget it,” said Brian. He set down his empty bottle of Rolling Rock and pushed it away. “It’s fine, Mikey, and I mean it. Justin needs that Jeep to get to work. And who knows? Soon he might have to support both of us.”

“That’s not funny, Brian!” Michael grumbled. “This is a serious situation! By the way, where IS Justin? How come he’s not here?”

“He’s working,” Brian stated. “He’s got the dinner shift tonight.”

“You’d think he’d be here when you’re in trouble,” Michael returned. “I’m here!”

“I’m not in trouble, Michael,” Brian insisted. 

“Then why did you call me?” Michael demanded. “Why did you want me to meet you here at Woody’s?”

“I don’t know,” Brian shrugged. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Michael that he simply didn’t want to be alone this evening. That his suspension from Vangard had thrown him for a fucking loop. That he really wanted Justin to be there with him. But that he also didn’t want to upset him when he was working. There was plenty of time to tell Justin what had happened. Later. “Because you’re so much fun, Mikey. Why else?”

“You’re so full of shit, Brian!” Michael exclaimed. But he stopped questioning. Being with Brian felt good. It felt like nothing had changed between them. It felt like old times. Good times.

The two friends sat at the bar and drank beer and ate peanuts until it was almost 11:00. Brian knew that Michael wanted to get home, but he was reluctant to let him go. Justin was still at the Watermark and wouldn’t be home until after midnight. The thought of returning to an empty loft gave Brian a dull ache.

Finally, Michael stood up and took out his keys. “Do you want me to drive you home, Brian? Or are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Brian nodded. “Toddle home to the Professor. I’ve only had a couple of beers. I think I can make it back to the loft without incident.”

“All right,” said Michael. He leaned over and kissed Brian goodbye. They had played out this scene hundreds of times over the years, but it was different now. They were different. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Bye bye, Mikey,” Brian sighed as Michael walked out of Woody’s. He glanced at his watch. Still almost an hour to kill.

“Hey,” said a voice. A guy slipped into the seat Michael had just vacated. “Remember me?”

Brian looked the guy up and down. “Not really.” There had been so many fucking guys and this one didn’t particularly stand out. 

“We made it at the gym,” the guy reminded him. “Last fall. In the steam room.”

“Oh, the steam room.” Brian grimaced. Was he kidding? He’d fucked so many guys in that steam room it wasn’t even funny. “Of course.”

“So – what’s up?” The guy moved a little closer.

“Nothing – yet.” Brian bit at his thumbnail. He was horny. It was late. He was just buzzed enough to take the edge off his anxiety.

“You doing anything?” the guy persisted.

“Not really.” Brian glanced at his watch again. It was a quarter after 11:00.

“Wanna come back to my place?” the guy suggested. 

Brian shook his head. “No, not really.”

But the guy wasn’t about to give up. Brian Kinney was high on his list of possible fucks. They’d only had time for a quick blowjob in the steam room, but the guy still hoped for more. “What about outside? The alley?” He glanced towards the door.

“No,” said Brian, firmly. He remembered all too well the last time he’d gotten blown in the alley next to Woody’s. Both he and the other man had ended up as guests of the Pittsburgh PD in their infamous Queens Tank.

“What about my car?” the guy pressed. Then he leaned over and whispered in Brian’s ear. “You’ve got a beautiful cock. I’d love to wrap my lips around it again. And maybe more.”

Brian hesitated. He hadn’t tricked in a while. A long while. But the old urge, the old thrill, welled up inside of him suddenly. The instinct of the hunter. He was Brian Fucking Kinney, after all. He felt his cock twitch inside his jeans.

“Let’s go,” he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No go.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

Brian followed the trick to his car, which was parked on Barker Place, where there were no streetlights. The car was a dark blue Honda Civic.

Brian shook his head. What was it with queers today? Everyone wanted to be safe. Normal. To blend into the crowd with all the straight, middle-class clones. And this guy was no different. A dark blue Honda Civic guy.

The trick unlocked the door and started to get in. But then he stopped. He looked around, fearfully. “What was that?”

Brian listened. In the distance he could hear a siren. But you heard sirens constantly in the city. Stockwell’s Stormtroopers were busy at every hour of the day and night, especially downtown.

“It’s nothing,” said Brian. “Let’s get going. I don’t have all fucking night.”

Brian slipped into the passenger seat and unbuckled his belt. He took out his dick, which was already half hard. He glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He hoped this guy was talented enough to get him off quickly.

But no such luck.

The trick was nervous and he sucked cock nervously, stopping intermittently to glance around. He couldn’t concentrate and that threw off Brian’s own concentration.

“Listen, is this going to take forever?” Brian finally asked. “Because if it is, I have to go.”

“Wait,” said the trick. “Can’t we go to my place? It’s only about five minutes away. Then we could have the whole night to kick back. And no one would bother us there.”

“I don’t want to go to your fucking place!” Brian said in exasperation. “I don’t want to watch a video with you, or look at your home movies, or make popcorn with you! I want to get my dick sucked! And that’s all! So if you can’t do it, then fucking forget it and I’ll take off.”

“Sorry,” said the trick as he watched Brian button up his jeans. “Let me give you my number. I still want to get together sometime.”

Brian shook his head in disbelief. “You must be fucking kidding.”

“No, really,” the guy insisted. He fumbled in his pants to take out his wallet. “I know I have some paper in here.” He opened the wallet and searched inside.

“What’s that?” Brian frowned as he saw something in the trick’s wallet. He put his hand out to grab it.

“Don’t do that!” the man cried. “It’s nothing.” He paused. “It’s not what you think.”

But Brian took the wallet and opened it. There was a badge inside. And ID. “You’re a cop. A fucking cop!”

“So what?” the trick replied. “So what if I am?”

“Are you undercover?” Brian’s heart was beating wildly. “Is this a set-up?”

“If it was, I’d have performed a lot better,” the cop moaned. “No, I’m off-duty. Jesus! I kept thinking we were going to get busted. Then my ass would really be in the fire!”

“Your ass?” said Brian. “What about MY ass? I don’t give a fuck about your ass! What do you think you’re trying to do?”

“Trying to get laid,” said the cop, softly. “And trying not to get caught at it.”

“You’re pathetic,” said Brian, disgustedly.

“I know.” The trick took his wallet and shoved back into the pocket of his pants. “But what the hell am I supposed to do? What?”

“I don’t know,” said Brian, thinking about how he had helped Jim Stockwell get elected. About how the campaign had been floundering until Brian took it over. He’d been so smug when Stockwell won. He’d only been thinking about all the promises Gardner Vance made him if their client won. New accounts with cash to burn. Huge bonuses. A New York office that Brian would head. 

Some of it had come true. They did have many new clients and the agency was making a lot of money. But when it had come time to open the New York branch of Vangard, Gardner had chosen another man – a younger man recruited from a local agency who already knew the territory and who would bring them some high-profile Manhattan-based clients.

But as for everything else that came in the wake of the election... Brian had made a big mistake and he knew it almost immediately. Stockwell packed his administration with homophobes and right wing nutcases. He let the cops loose on Liberty Avenue until it was little better than a police state. And he chased people back into the closet in droves – or made it impossible for them to come out in the first place.

“I don’t know what you should do,” Brian reiterated. “Quit. Leave town. Fight back. Whatever the fuck. But don’t involve me.”

Brian got out of the Honda and slammed the door behind him. He walked back up to Liberty Avenue. The sirens in the distance sounded louder now. Closer.

Too close.

Brian kept walking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin finishes his shift.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“That was my last table,” said Justin, setting down the heavy tray. “Thank God! I’m dead on my feet!”

“If you think that was busy, you should be here on a Friday or Saturday night,” laughed Bryce. “It’s a total zoo! But the tips are great.”

Bryce was a few years older than Justin and had been working evenings at the Watermark for over two years. Clarence, the manager, had assigned Bryce to keep an eye on Justin during his first evening shift.

“The tips I made tonight are a lot better than what I get in the afternoon out on the Patio.” Justin rubbed his hand against his pocket and felt the bulge of cash there. 

“Why don’t you get Clarence to put you on evenings?” Bryce suggested.

“I’d love to, but he only let me work tonight because another waiter called in sick,” Justin said as he and Bryce began to clean up the station.

“That would be Chad,” Bryce sniffed. “He’s a fuck-up. He’s always missing his shift. Clarence should fire him, but he keeps him on because... well....” Bryce rolled his eyes.

“Because why?” Justin asked innocently.

“Because Chad puts out, that’s why!” Bryce stated. “Every time Clarence is fed up and ready to kick his butt out of here, Chad gets him into a corner and sucks him off!”

“You’re kidding!” Justin exclaimed. He’d heard about that kind of thing, but he never imagined it would happen at a nice place like the Watermark.

“No, I’m not kidding,” said Bryce. “And if I were you, I’d watch my ass around Clarence. He’s a total lecher.”

“Yeah,” Justin admitted. “He’s bumped up against me a bunch of times, but I just ignore it. I don’t want to slap his hands away and then get fired!”

“Well, watch yourself, Justin,” said Bryce. “You’re a good waiter. I’d hate to see Clarence drive you away. It’s happened before. I’ve seen guys come – and then I’ve seen them go!”

Justin frowned. Bryce was hot. He was muscular, with sun-bleached hair and a strong, handsome face. That’s one of the reasons that he got such good tips – he had a loyal clientele of gay male diners who always requested his tables. “Why doesn’t Clarence hit on you? I’m not trying to butter you up or anything, Bryce, but you’re the best-looking guy working here.”

“I know,” said Bryce as they walked down to the breakroom to change their clothes. “But Clarence doesn’t bother to hit on me.”

“Why not?” Justin asked in confusion.

“Because he’s my lover,” Bryce stated, opening his locker and taking out a clean shirt. “We’ve been together for six years.”

“Oh,” said Justin, turning bright red. But Bryce didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He changed his clothes and went to meet Clarence out front, leaving Justin sitting on the bench.

This job is getting more interesting by the minute, Justin thought. And weirder, too.

He took out his cellphone and called Brian. But it went to voicemail. For some reason Brian had his phone turned off. That was odd. Even if Brian had gone out with Michael or over to see his son, Gus, he’d be home by now. Or he’d at least have his phone on.

Justin trudged out to the Jeep. Boy, my ass is dragging! he thought. I don’t know how Debbie does all those double shifts at the Liberty Diner. 

His arms and back ached from carrying the trays – they seemed a lot heavier during the dinner shift in the main room than during lunch on the Patio. Everyone else on the shift was popping Extra Strength Tylenols, but Justin was afraid to take any for fear of a bad reaction to them. He was allergic to so many things that he avoided most drugs, even over-the-counter stuff.

But the money he’d made in tips was substantially more than what he made on the lunch shift. And if he worked dinners, then he’d have his days free to take some art classes in the fall. Ben Bruckner had given him a catalog from Carnegie Mellon and suggested a few good professors in the Art Department. He was already taking a drawing class that Lindsay taught at the Gay and Lesbian Center, but that was only once a week and most of the people were only taking it for fun. Justin wanted more than a fun class – he wanted something more serious. More challenging.

But if he took classes during the day and worked in the evening – that didn’t leave much room for Brian. Or for their relationship. 

As he got into the Jeep, he said a silent ‘thank you’ to Brian. He’d been right, as usual, about his need for his own transportation. The thought of waiting for a bus at this time of night made him shiver. Not that he really felt unsafe. It was just... a feeling of unease. There were so many police cars around. So many dark areas of the city. So many shadows at this time of night. Justin was far from a fearful kind of person, but he knew he needed to be alert. It never helped to go looking for trouble.

Justin walked into the loft and knew immediately that Brian wasn’t there. That was odd. He was almost never out after midnight.

He pulled off his shoes and socks. His feet ached. He loved the loft, but often wished it had a bathtub. A long soak in a warm tub would be just the thing. He took off the rest of his clothes and went in to take a shower. Brian was probably out with Michael. In that case, he’d be home soon. Maybe even by the time Justin got out of the shower.

But Brian wasn’t home when he got out. As Justin dried himself, he looked at the clock next to the bed. It was almost 1:00 a.m. He knew that Brian had work tomorrow, so it wasn’t like him to be so late. And Justin had another lunch shift at the Watermark. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but he also wanted to wait up for Brian.

He wrapped his naked body in a thin blanket, sat on the sofa, and clicked on the television. He watched Conan O’Brien, trying to keep himself awake, but he kept dozing off. He clicked around some more. Movies. Infomercials. The Home Shopping Channel. Did anyone really buy this stuff? He watched some man practically swooning over a set of steak knives. How fucking gay was THAT? Justin thought. He kept surfing through the channels. Sports. MTV. VH-1. Lifetime. Some softcore hetero porn on the Curtain Network. So many channels and nothing he wanted to watch.

Where the fuck was Brian? It was now well after 2:00 a.m. He clicked the television off.

Justin heard a siren. Heard it get closer. Louder. Then sweep by on Fuller, right in front of the building. You heard a lot of sirens living in the city. The police. Fire trucks. Lots of noises outside.

But inside the loft was still. He could hear the building creaking. Water dripping in the shower. Justin pulled the blanket tighter around himself, not because he was cold – it was a warm August night – but for comfort.

How many years had Brian lived here all by himself? Justin wondered how he’d been able to stand it, year after year. The silence. The shadows. The loneliness.

He imagined Brian sitting on this same sofa. Drinking. Smoking a joint. Brooding. In the darkness. With the shadows closing in on him.

Justin covered his head with the blanket and shut his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe at home.

Part 8

 

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

Justin stirred on the sofa, kicking off the blanket. He was too hot and his back hurt.

But as he struggled against sleep he felt something looming over him in the dark. Something touching him ever so lightly.

“Jesus!” he cried out, sitting up and lashing out at the shadow.

“Don’t kill me,” said Brian, grabbing his arm and then pulling him into an embrace. “I know I’m late, but that’s no reason to punch me in the nose, Sunshine.”

“You scared the shit out of me, Brian!” Justin said in relief.

“Sorry,” Brian whispered. “What are doing out here on the sofa?”

“Waiting for you.” Justin rested his head on Brian’s shoulder, inhaling the smell of cigarettes and sweat.

“You should be in bed. You worked two shifts today.” Brian ran his hand through Justin’s sleep-tousled hair, his fingers catching in a tangle at the back of his head.

“I know.” Justin held onto Brian tightly.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me for being late?” Brian asked. “Aren’t you going to ask me where the fuck I’ve been?”

Justin took a deep breath. “You’ll tell me if I need to know.”

“No secrets,” said Brian. “Isn’t that what we agreed? No secrets and no excuses.”

“Were you out tricking?” Justin asked. 

He didn’t want to have this discussion, but he knew it was inevitable. Brian fucked a lot of guys. He always had and he probably always would. Justin assumed that even though they were living together, Brian still tricked. But he wasn’t obvious about it. If he did, then he never did it in front of Justin. He never shoved it in Justin’s face or flaunted it. And he’d never been this late before.

“Sort of,” Brian admitted.

“Sort of?” Justin pulled away and looked Brian in the eye. “What does that mean? Sort of?”

“I went to Woody’s and sat with Michael for a few hours. Talking things over.”

Talking things over. Justin felt a surge of anxiety. Talking what over? Their relationship?

“Then, after Mikey went home, I started talking to this guy,” Brian continued. “I went out to his car.” Brian shrugged. “But it was a no-go. So I got out of his car, walked back to the Vette, and drove around for a while.” Brian glanced at the clock on the computer desk and saw that it was after 3:00 a.m. “I guess I drove around longer than I thought.” 

Justin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to be calm about the situation. At least Brian was being honest with him. At least he wasn’t trying to hide what he’d been doing. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

So Justin decided to be honest with Brian. “And because I was working late, you couldn’t wait for me to come home to get your dick sucked. Is that it, Brian? So that every time I’m out of your sight for more than two hours, that makes it okay to look for someone else to get your needs met? Is that the way it’s going to be? Tell me now, so I can start getting used to it.”

“No, that’s not the way it’s going to be,” Brian maintained. He regarded Justin, who was looking him straight in the eye. Challenging him. Demanding the truth. “I... I won’t make any excuses. It was a stupid thing to do. More stupid than you know. But... I was feeling lousy. I thought that trick would make me feel better. I was wrong.”

Justin frowned. “Feeling lousy? About what?”

“Vance put me on suspension without pay,” Brian said in a low voice. “For a month. That fucking idiot Sutton complained about my ‘behavior.’ Well, fuck him! And fuck Gardner, too! Let’s see how Vangard does without me!”

Justin was shocked. He knew Gardner Vance didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Brian, but he never imagined that he might punish him for something so ridiculous as what happened on the Patio at the Watermark. One kiss! One fucking kiss!

“He can’t do that, Brian!” Justin insisted. “You’re a partner!”

“Ever read ‘Animal Farm’?” Brian asked. “It’s like that. All partners are equal, but some partners are more equal than others. That’s Gardner Vance. He’s the pig who’s more equal than all the others. More equal than me. And that’s why he can do it.”

“I’ll ask for extra shifts at the restaurant!” Justin declared. “Don’t worry, Brian! I’ll take up the slack!”

Brian smiled. This kid! What the fuck would he do without him?

“Justin, you don’t have to work any extra shifts,” Brian advised. “We have money in the bank. More than enough to live on for a month or two – or even longer. I own this loft and I have other assets as well. So think of the next month as an extended vacation. I’m planning to enjoy every minute of it.”

Justin knew that his lover was lying. If he wasn’t upset, then he wouldn’t have gone to Woody’s to cry on Michael’s shoulder. He wouldn’t have picked up the trick. And he wouldn’t have driven around for hours afterwards, thinking. Brooding. Obviously worrying.

“I’m tired,” said Justin. He stood up and pulled Brian with him. “Can you help me into bed?”

“I think I can do that,” Brian said softly.

But it was Justin who led Brian up to the big platform bed. Justin who undressed him and kissed him and laid him down. Justin who took Brian’s cock into his mouth and finished the job that the unsatisfactory trick had been unable to.

“Thanks,” Brian murmured. “That was great. How come you always know exactly what I need?”

“It’s not difficult,” Justin grinned. “You’re a pretty simple guy, Brian.”

“Am I?” he sighed. “There goes years of building up the Kinney Mystique. Blown all to hell by a blond twink. And I do mean ‘blown’!”

“I’m not a twink,” said Justin. He pulled the dark blue sheets over the two of them and put his arms around Brian. “I’m your partner.”

And Brian only nodded as he felt sleep – and Justin – drawing him in.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Housewarming party at Ted and Emmett's.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“Now, remember to behave,” Justin instructed as they got out of the Corvette.

Brian rolled his eyes, “I’ll try not to take out my dick and beat off in the living room!”

“Brian...!” Justin cautioned.

“Jesus! I know how to behave at a fucking housewarming!” Brian huffed. “Do you think I was born in a cave?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Justin grinned.

“I went to Michael and Ben’s housewarming party when they moved to Stepford Terrace,” Brian said, smugly. “And I brought a very nice present, too.”

Justin glanced at the wrapped gift in his hands. “Was it as nice as the present I bought for Emmett and Ted?”

“Nicer,” Brian replied. “It was the finest leather sling money can buy. I’m sure Mikey and the Professor have had hours of enjoyment with it.”

“A sling?” said Justin. “You mean... that thing they strap a guy in to fuck him?”

“I see you’ve been watching my old Jeff Stryker videos,” said Brian. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons, Sunshine.”

“I have not!” Justin insisted, blushing.

“Ha!” Brian laughed. “Busted!”

They walked up the sidewalk and stopped in front of the house. “This is it,” said Justin, checking the address on the invitation.

“A white picket fence,” Brian sniffed. “Leave it to Emmett Honeycutt to want every hetero cliché in the fucking book!”

“I think it’s cute,” Justin said. “It’s a pretty house.”

“It’s a fucking nightmare,” Brian offered. “Well, I guess it’s too late to run away, so let’s go inside.”

 

***

 

Emmett and Ted’s housewarming party was exactly as Brian had feared – a faux-breeder nightmare that made queer domesticity seem as desirable as the plague.

Emmett was running around in an apron – a fucking apron! And Ted looked about as comfortable as a condemned man facing the firing squad. The house was done up in a style that Brian could only describe as ‘Early Queen Mother’ – with an accent on the ‘queen.’ Everything was ‘British.’ Or at least Emmett Honeycutt’s idea of British. Icky Laura Ashley fabrics for the curtains and furniture, a set of Princess Diana dishes displayed in the dining room, prints of Windsor Castle, Big Ben, and the Tower Bridge in the living room – it was like a lunatic from the BBC, circa 1985, had decorated the house. That – or Emmett had done it himself.

“I did it ALL myself!” Emmett bragged to Debbie.

“It’s just beautiful, hon!” she gushed. “And so classy!”

“That rave review from a woman wearing an orange dustmop on her head,” Brian whispered to Justin.

“Don’t say that!” Justin stifled a laugh. “Someone will hear you!”

“So what if they do?” Brian shrugged. “They’ll just consider the source. What fucking idiot decided that all gay men have good taste? It’s a fucking public relations gimmick sold by fags who have television shows on Bravo and the Style Network!”

“Have some food,” Justin suggested, moving them to the buffet table. “Emmett may not know how to decorate a house, but he knows how to cater his own party.”

“That’s only because Darren is doing the cooking.” Brian tried a puff pastry. “Not bad. He’s a better cook than he is a drag queen. He should turn in the high heels for a frying pan permanently.”

“Darren told me it’s hard to get any performing gigs these days.” Justin piled his paper plate with goodies. “With half the gay bars in town closed down, there isn’t much call for Shanda Leer’s act. He told me he’s thinking of moving to Buffalo or Columbus. Then what will Em do?”

“He’ll have to find another chef, like he did after Vic died.” Poor Vic, thought Brian. I wish he were here. We could use him right now. Use his spirit. His perspective. He lived through a lot in his time. I could use his advice, too.

“Enjoying the party, boys?” asked Emmett, putting his arm around Justin’s shoulders.

“These are really good!” said Justin, shoving another tiny peach tart into his mouth.

“Yeah, Em,” Brian dead-panned. “You’re the hostess with the mostest.”

“Why thank you, Brian,” said Emmett, ignoring the sarcasm. “And thanks for the Dustbuster, baby,” he said, kissing Justin on the cheek. “It’s just what I needed!”

“My mom suggested it,” Justin replied. “She has one just like it.”

“I had a different gift idea,” Brian piped up. “But I was over-ruled.”

Justin shot Brian a glance, but Brian only stuck out his tongue. Justin was such a good little WASP. Such good manners. It made Brian want to take the boy into Emmett’s perfect pretty pink guest bathroom, bend him over the sink, and fuck his pretty pink ass until he screamed.

“Sounds like a plan,” Brian mused.

“What?” asked Justin.

“Nothing.” Brian picked up Emmett’s arm and removed it from Justin’s shoulder, pulling his lover away. “I was only thinking out loud.”

“Be good, you two,” Emmett commanded as he walked away.

“We’re always good,” Brian called after him. “You’ll never know how good!”

“You’re impossible!” Justin murmured, leaning his head against Brian’s shoulder.

“Is this really your idea of Fag Paradise, Sunshine?” Brian asked seriously. “This house, and the white picket fence, and the fucking ruffles around the windows, and the Franklin Mint Plates on the wall? Is this what you want, too?”

“No,” said Justin. “I have another idea of paradise. And it doesn’t involve a house, or curtains, or any kind of plates. It doesn’t involve any ‘stuff’ at all, Brian.”

“What then?” Brian whispered.

“You already know,” Justin answered with a smile.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoking and thinking.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“What are you doing out here, honey?” said Debbie, opening the door and coming onto the back deck where Brian was standing. It was a beautiful evening – warm, clear, and brightly moonlit.

“Keeping Emmett and Ted’s House of Horrors smoke-free,” Brian replied. He blew a perfect smoke ring into the air and then watched it fade. “What thrills am I missing inside?”

“Em is showing off his new trash compactor,” Debbie explained. “I gotta get Carl to buy me one of those things. It’s the nuts! You should see it crunch up a big plastic juice bottle!”

“And the hits just keep on coming,” Brian sighed. “I know how a trash compactor works, Deb. I don’t need a fucking demonstration.”

“Feeling a little down, baby?” Debbie asked.

“I’m feeling fine, thank you,” Brian sniffed. “Why would I be feeling down?”

“Because you lost your job!” Debbie answered. “I know you must be worried sick about it. But don’t fret. If you need anything, just ask!”

Brian shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need anything, Deb. And I didn’t lose my job. I’m only on suspension.”

“But what about money?” asked Debbie. She knew how much Brian usually spent in a month. The man had expensive tastes. He was used to a certain lifestyle. And there were others to think of besides himself. “You have responsibilities now, Brian. You have your son. And Sunshine to support, too.”

“Jesus!” Brian huffed. “It’s only for a month! Money isn’t a problem. I have money put away for Gus. He’ll always be well taken care of. Trust me.” Brian blew another perfect smoke ring and watched it rise into the night air. “And for your information, Justin is not my wife and he’s not a dependent child. He’s a grown man. I don’t support him. We take care of each other.”

“But he’s supposed to start classes at Carnegie Mellon in a couple of weeks,” Debbie pointed out. “If you aren’t working and Sunshine has to take extra shifts at the restaurant, when is he going to have time to study?”

Brian tossed his cigarette onto the deck and crushed it. “Listen, Deb, no offense, but how Justin and I handle our affairs is nobody’s fucking business but our own. I contribute something and Justin contributes something. The amount of money each of us has isn’t the fucking point. It doesn’t matter. It’s... that we’re doing it together. So butt the hell out.”

Debbie watched Brian’s face as he was making this little speech. There was an expression on it that she had rarely seen in the twenty odd years she’d known him. She almost wasn’t certain what to call it. Amazement? Tenderness? Confusion? Or all of those things?

“You really are in love with this kid, aren’t you?” Debbie marveled.

“Go away, Deb,” Brian urged. He fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He needed something stringer than another cigarette, truth be told. But he didn’t dare leave the loft with a joint in his pocket anymore, not with Stockwell’s goons patrolling every street.

“You know his mom, Jennifer, came to see me at the diner,” Debbie informed him.

“Are you and Mother Taylor going to bond over P-FLAG?” Brian laughed. “Why don’t you call Joanie and invite her to your next tea party? I’m sure she’d love finding out I was a fag from an expert on fags like yourself.”

“You know how I feel about telling your mother, Brian,” Debbie reminded him sharply. “You should have told her years ago. But that’s not the issue right now. Justin is.” Debbie paused, unsure whether to continue. But what the hell? She didn’t get the chance to corner Brian very often these days. “Jennifer thinks you’re going to hurt Justin. She thinks you’re going to break his heart.”

Brian winced. “I bet she does. The Big Bad Wolf who has his evil claws in her son.” Brian took a deep breath and then left it out noisily. “You never know. I might break his heart. But I think it’s a lot more likely that he’s going to break mine.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Debbie turned and walked back into the house, the screen door slamming behind her. But then Brian heard the door creak open again.

“I thought Deb would never go back inside,” said Justin, slipping his arm around Brian’s waist. “What were you two gabbing about?”

“My unfortunate unemployment,” Brian replied. “My sterling personality. Your ass.”

Justin grinned. “You were not!”

“Why not?” said Brian. “Even a straight woman like Debbie Horvath can appreciate a killer ass. And with Horvath around the house, she needs a little fantasy to brighten her dreary days.”

“Carl isn’t so bad, Brian,” Justin insisted. “In fact, he’s a great guy. And he’s okay-looking. I mean, okay for an old straight guy.”

“Yeah, Carl’s great,” Brian returned. “But he’s still a cop. And we’re still queers. That’s a bad combination in Jim Stockwell’s ‘Family Friendly’ Pittsburgh.”

“But what about the gay cops, Brian?” Justin asked. “You know there are some. There have to be.”

Brian shuddered, thinking of the trick – the cop! – who tried to blow him in the car not long before. “They’re all in hiding. Or in denial. Or living in fear. Like everyone these days who isn’t walking the ‘straight and narrow’ – or pretending to.” 

In the distance was the sound of another siren. They heard sirens all through the night. Not just downtown, but all over the city. Sirens chasing someone. Sirens coming to someone’s rescue. Sirens warning everyone who heard them – watch out. Watch the fuck out!

Brian pulled Justin closer to him. He could smell something sweet on his breath. One of Darren’s rich desserts, most likely. “Be careful, Justin. I’m not kidding. This evening shift you’re working now, I don’t know about it....”

“I’m fine,” Justin cut Brian off, gently but firmly.

He was proud of his job and his independence. He loved Brian’s concern, but he didn’t want Brian’s obsession with Mayor Stockwell and his anti-gay campaign to put the brakes on when everything was going so well. He was making good money on the dinner shift. He was contributing his share to their expenses. And he didn’t want that to change. He didn’t ever want to feel like Brian’s kept boy. “I park in the Watermark lot and I come right home after my shift’s over. What could happen to me?”

“Nothing.” Brian stared up at the sky. The moon was almost full. “Nothing could happen.”

And Justin was fearless. Fucking fearless. 

Brian wished that he could say the same for himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run!

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

“We’re going out for a drink at that new bar on the North Side,” said Bryce. “Want to come along?”

“Naw,” Justin replied as he changed into his jeans. It had been a busy Friday night at the Watermark. Justin had made a lot of tip money, but he was tired and anxious to get home. “I don’t think so. Brian is waiting for me.”

“Give him a call,” Bryce suggested. “Have him meet us there.” 

Bryce thought Justin’s boyfriend was hot. Some evenings he came and sat at the bar, watching Justin and waiting to catch a few minutes with him on his break. Bryce had heard a lot about Brian Kinney and knew he used to be a major stud on Liberty Avenue, but he seemed to have settled down recently. 

Maybe settled down. Or maybe not. Bryce was up for a threesome with a couple of hot guys. Or even a foursome if he could prod Clarence into it. Clarence liked to fuck a lot of guys, but he usually preferred to do it one-on-one – behind Bryce’s back. Or at least he thought he was doing it behind Bryce’s back. He was wrong.

“Not tonight,” Justin said firmly. “I don’t want to stay up too late tonight. Brian and I are going out to the Antique Market tomorrow and I want to get an early start.”

“Antique Market?” Bryce grinned. “Brian doesn’t seem like the antiques type. Where is this place?”

“Out in the country, near Wiley.” Justin put on his rugby shirt and stuffed his dirty Watermark shirt into his gym bag. It had a tomato sauce spill right in the front. He’d have to soak the thing in pre-wash to get it out. “It’s beautiful around there. You guys should drive out there sometime.”

“I’m a city boy,” said Bryce. “And I’m not big on antiques.”

“If you and Clarence ever want to go on a romantic weekend, I know a great place,” Justin advised. “Brian and I stayed there last spring.”

Bryce rolled his eyes. “Clarence isn’t big on romance. The last time we went away together was to go to Clarence’s aunt’s funeral in Scranton. Believe me, it was no fucking honeymoon!”

“No, that doesn’t sound very romantic,” Justin agreed. 

The two walked out of the restaurant together, glancing around. The Watermark parking lot was well-lit, but it never hurt to be careful. When any of the waitresses went out to her car, Clarence or Bryce or one of the bartenders walked with her – just to make sure she was okay. And even the guys usually walked in pairs. Maybe it was paranoia, but Justin was glad they all looked out for each other.

Clarence was smoking a cigarette by their car as he waited for Bryce. “You coming with us to the bar?” he asked Justin.

“Maybe next time,” Justin said. Then he headed for the Jeep and climbed in.

It was another stifling night. It had been a hot, humid summer and Justin could hardly wait for fall to come and give a little relief. Fall also meant a new school year. He was also supposed to start two art classes at Carnegie Mellon very soon, but if Brian wasn’t working....

Justin shook his head. Gardner Vance had to take Brian back! Brian was a partner at Vangard! He wasn’t someone Vance could simply dismiss out of hand. But the reality was that Brian was still on suspension. It was proving a long, depressing month for his lover. And Justin was really beginning to worry.

Justin decided to stop at the Liberty Diner and pick up a couple of lemon squares. Brian liked lemon squares and Justin loved them. It would be a nice little treat before they went to bed. Brian usually didn’t like to eat any carbs before he went to bed, but if Justin promised to help him work them off... That would tempt him!

Liberty Avenue was busy, even for a Friday night. It was like everyone was trying to enjoy the last days of summer before it all ended and the real world took over again. Justin saw a long line outside of Babylon and even Woody’s looked like it was bustling.

He found a parking space way down the street, beyond the Liberty Diner. It was a little dark there, but not too out of the way. A cop car cruised by, but it didn’t slow down.

“Hey, Sunshine!” called Debbie, going by with a loaded tray. “Whacha doing here at this time of night?”

“I just got off work,” he said. “Can I get some lemon squares to go?”

“Sure, hon,” said Debbie. “Be with you in a minute.”

Justin sat at the counter and took out a few dollars of his tip money. It always seemed like a lot, but not compared to what Brian made. That is, when Brian was working. What would they do if Vance really fired him? He knew that Brian had been quietly putting out feelers for another job, but there were only so many advertising agencies in Pittsburgh. Justin also knew that Brian had been searching the internet, looking at agencies in other cities, other states.

What if Brian decided that he had to leave Pittsburgh? Well, that wasn’t a difficult decision – Justin would go with him, of course. He could get a job in a restaurant anywhere. Or in a store. Or even an office, if he had to. And he could work on his art anywhere, too. As long as he had his drawing pads, pencils, some paint, and a place to set up a canvas, he’d be in business. He could do that in Pittsburgh or Peru, in New York or New Zealand. It didn’t matter, as long as they were together.

“Here you go,” said Debbie, setting down the box with the lemon squares. “I put three in there. In case you get hungry in the middle of the night.”

“Thanks, Deb.” Justin put the money on the counter and slipped from the stool.

“If they don’t treat you right at the Watermark, Sunshine, you can come back and work here!” Debbie asserted as Justin walked to the door. “You tell ’em that!”

“I’ll tell them!” Justin laughed. 

He pushed open the diner door and the humid air hit him full force. It was getting late. He hurried back down the sidewalk in the direction of the Jeep.

“Hold it!”

Two cops were blocking his path. Two men in the black coats and boots of Mayor Stockwell’s Vice Squad. His Anti-Sex Brigade.

“It’s after curfew!” barked one of the cops, an older man with a hard face and a gray crewcut. 

“I’m over 21,” said Justin, clutching his box of lemon squares.

“What are you doing on the street at this hour, punk?” asked the cop. “Hustling?”

“I’m on my way home from work.” Justin felt a sudden chill in the humid air.

“Let’s see your ID,” the cop snapped. “Step over here.” He gestured to the mouth of an alley. “Hurry up!”

Justin followed them into the alley. He fumbled for his wallet, trying not to drop it or his box of lemon squares. He finally pulled out his driver’s license and handed it to the first cop. “Here.”

“Here, what?” He grabbed the front of Justin’s rugby shirt and pulled him closer.

“Watch it, Kenny,” the second cop nervously warned his partner. 

But the first cop ignored him. “I asked you a question, punk!” he pushed Justin back against the brick wall. “And I expect an answer!”

“Here... sir?” Justin breathed, praying that was the answer the cop wanted.

“Sir... or Sergeant!” the cop snarled. He let go of Justin’s shirt. Then he pointed to the stripes on his black coat. “See that, faggot? Treat that with respect. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Justin swallowed. It wasn’t good to show them he was afraid. They wanted him to be afraid. That’s what they got off on – fear. 

The cop tossed Justin’s driver’s license on the ground. “Pick it up.”

Justin bent over slowly and retrieved his license, aware that the cop was watching his every move.

“Nice ass,” the cop whispered. But Justin heard him clearly. And another chill rushed through him.

“Let it go, Kenny,” the partner urged. “Forget it.”

“Shut up!” the first cop lashed out. 

But his partner stood his ground. “Let’s get the hell out of here! Now!”

The first cop sneered. “Don’t let me catch you stepping out of line, punk.” His dark eyes were riveted on Justin. “Ever spend a night in the Queens Tank? You’d like it there. We know what to do with little bitches like you down in the Queens Tank. Next time you and your pretty ass won’t get off so easy....” He let the threat hang heavily in the air.

Justin stumbled out of the alley and began to run. Behind him he heard Stockwell’s cops laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together.

Pittsburgh, August 2005

 

Brian was sitting at his computer when Justin came bursting into the loft.

“Jesus!” Brian laughed. “Who’s chasing you?”

But he stopped laughing when he saw the look on Justin’s face. Brian stood up and walked over to him, putting his arms around Justin’s neck. And Justin hugged Brian back. Hugged him hard.

“I’m okay.” Justin took a deep breath. He needed to steady himself. Act normal, he told himself. Don’t let Brian know you’re scared. “Really.”

But Brian frowned. “You don’t look okay. Did you have a problem with the Jeep?” 

Justin shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” But he didn’t relinquish his hold on his lover. “I brought home lemon squares. From the diner.”

“Where are they?” Brian asked. Justin didn’t have anything in his hands.

“I....” Justin was at a loss. “I guess I left them in the Jeep. Sorry. I’ll go back down and get them.”

“Forget it,” said Brian. “We can get them later.”

He led Justin over to the sofa and sat him down on it, easing himself next to him. Then Brian waited. But Justin didn’t say a word.

“Was it busy tonight?” Brian asked. He could feel Justin trembling slightly.

“Yes,” said Justin. His heart was still pounding. “I was running all evening. It was crazy.”

“Maybe it would be better for you to go back on the lunch shift,” Brian said carefully. He knew that Justin was proud of the money he was making at the restaurant – and of the contribution he was making toward their expenses.

“I can’t,” Justin said firmly. “My two classes at CMU are both during the day. I can’t work and go to class at the same time. Besides, I’m making more on the dinner shift.” 

“I’ll be going back to work soon,” said Brian. “Sooner – if Gardner comes to his senses.”

“Is that why you’re on the internet, checking out ad agencies in other cities?” Justin asked.

Brian bit at his lower lip. “I want to know all of my options. Just in case.”

“Will we have to leave Pittsburgh?” There, thought Justin. I’ve finally said it out loud.

Brian couldn’t lie to Justin. Not about this. “Maybe.” He paused. Truth was the best way to go. “Probably.”

“I don’t care,” Justin maintained. “If we have to go, it’s all right.”

“What about your mom?” said Brian. “And your classes?”

“I haven’t even started my art classes!” said Justin. “And Mom... she’ll have to deal with it. After all, I was at Dartmouth for four years. People leave home all the time. They go to school, or get jobs, and they move away. But it would be sad to be far away from Gus.”

“I know,” Brian whispered. “But we could come back to see him. And he could visit us. Wherever we end up.”

It was hot in the loft – Brian had the windows wide open and the white gauze curtains swayed in the faint breeze – but Justin shivered. If they left Pittsburgh it really would be just the two of them. But that didn’t matter. Not as long as they were together.

“Brian?” Justin murmured. 

“What?” Brian knew that something had spooked Justin. He wanted to force it out of him, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t Justin’s fucking father. He wasn’t his keeper. Justin was a grown man. “You can tell me. What happened tonight?”

Justin hesitated. He didn’t want to make more of his encounter with the cops than it was. But he also didn’t want to pretend it never happened.

“It was nothing. I got stopped on Liberty Avenue. Two cops asked to see my ID.”

Brian tensed. The fucking cops! Stockwell’s Stormtroopers! It was one thing to arrest him – he’d been breaking the law, after all – but another thing to harass Justin, who had only been walking down a public street. Picking up fucking lemon squares at a diner!

“Is that all?” Brian demanded. “Nothing more?”

“No,” said Justin slowly. “Nothing more.”

“I’d like to kill those fuckers,” Brian breathed. “The self-righteous bastards!”

“Nothing happened!” Justin insisted. “I’m okay. They only stopped me. That’s all.” Justin got up from the sofa. “I better go down and get the lemon squares. And I also left my gym bag in the Jeep. I need to wash my shirt. I spilled sauce all over it.”

“You can get them tomorrow,” said Brian, standing and stretching. “It’s late.”

He took Justin by the hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. Up the steps. Over to the bed.

“I should take a shower,” Justin whispered. “I’m all sweaty. And I smell like grease and tomato sauce.”

“You can take a shower in the morning.” Brian pulled Justin’s rugby shirt over his head. “I like the smell of grease and tomato sauce. And the taste of it.” Brian trailed his tongue down the side of Justin’s neck. “That’s good. Basil, with a hint of oregano. And garlic. Plenty of garlic. The special tonight must have been Chicken Parmesan.”

“Close,” said Justin. “Chicken Cacciatore. With green beans and a side salad.”

“Even better.” Brian pushed Justin back on the bed and pulled down his jeans and briefs, tossing them on the floor. Then he went down on Justin’s cock, sucking it deep into his soft mouth. Brian was an expert at sucking cock. He’d been doing it since he was 14 years old and he knew the power that he had over a man when he had total control over his dick.

But Brian also knew that his reputation on Liberty Avenue was as the ultimate top. He’d never once gone to his knees in the backroom at Babylon. And there was no one in Pittsburgh who could claim, “I topped Brian Kinney!” Yes, he sucked cock. Yes, he’d been fucked. But not in public. And not in the Pitts. With one important exception....

Justin wasn’t very tall. And he had slender hips and not much of a chest. But he had the cock of a man twice his size. Brian had been surprised the first time he’d taken it out, that Christmas Eve not so very long ago. Surprised at the thickness of it. Surprised that this prime young dick had never been touched. Never been sucked. It excited him that he’d be the first. This was his – and his alone. Brian had never felt that way before in his life. Sometimes he wondered what that meant.

“Brian!” Justin cried out. His fingers were entwined in Brian’s dark hair. “I’m going to come!”

But Brian didn’t pull back. He worked Justin’s cock even harder, moving up and down faster. Come on. Come on.

Justin let out a strangled sigh as his cock jerked inside Brian’s mouth, filling it with his warm come.

“That was good,” Justin murmured. “So fucking good.”

“Amazing,” Brian smiled. He moved up next to Justin, their heads on the same large pillow. 

“I love you,” said Justin. Directly. Sincerely. What did he have to lose by telling his lover the truth? “I really do.”

“Whatever happens, we’re in this together. Right?” said Brian.

“Whatever happens,” Justin repeated. “But nothing is going to happen. We’re like Michael’s superheroes. We’re invincible! Aren’t we, Brian? Aren’t we?”

“Yes,” said Brian, resting his head on Justin’s chest. “Invincible. Forever.”

And for that night, at least, it was true.

 

*FIN*


End file.
